


From Castiel, With Love.

by Bates



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (isn't permanent - you'll know if you're familiar with the lake house), (though let's be real art is a bit much to call it), Doctor Castiel, F/M, Holidays, Hospital, Letters, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Mechanic Dean, Sam with past of depression, lake house au!, mention of depression, mentions of oncology ward, poor health (of parents), sick parent, with art
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-09 19:53:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5553146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bates/pseuds/Bates
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester is in love with just three things; 1) his family - there is nothing better than it, 2) his dog Chevy and 3) his Lake House. Or at least, formerly his Lake House. It's a thing of beauty. If he hadn't been forced to move out, he probably wouldn't have moved out at all.</p><p>What starts out as just a letter from a weirdo turns into a blossoming friendship with the perhaps weirdo who appears to live in 2013. It's only when he realizes that things may be too late in his timeline for them to hang out, in real life, that he notices that perhaps, he build more than some affection for the guy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [luxshine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/luxshine/gifts).



> I really hope you like your fic! ♥
> 
> Prompt; The Lake House AU (the movie with Sandra Bullock and Keanu Reeves) Castiel is living in 2013, getting letters from Dean, in 2015.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

_10th of October, 2015_

 

Dean would miss the lake house. He honestly would. No matter how much he'd miss it, the boxes were packed and there was nothing that he could do now. His new house was bought and his parents were already counting on him to come back home. Dean didn't quite know where home  _was_. If he was honest, this was it, the funky house with glass windows and too much wood, where it always took forever to clean because the sunlight made  _every_  spec of dust visible.

His family was helping him load the boxes into the back of the moving truck they'd rented. It was mainly Sam and John who did the heavy lifting and even so mostly his brother, but Sam wasn't complaining. Chevy was running back and forth with him, keeping up with his long strides and almost making him topple over quite a few times. It was almost a miracle that Sam hadn’t lashed out at her yet. But then again, he had him wrapped around her paws like you wouldn’t believe.

Dean had probably been the most unproductive of them all and it was _his_ house. Which was pathetic, really. It was his stuff after all, not Sam’s, not John’s and especially not Mary’s, but she was packing up his books and handing boxes to their father anyway. He'd been mainly, staring out over the water, handing his mother books and helping label the boxes so they knew what was in which box.

“You’re going to miss it, aren’t you?” Mary asked from where she was sitting on the floor, surrounded by books. “I’m sorry.”

“Of course I am,” he sighed, sitting down next to her. Staring out the window wasn’t going to help make him a bit more productive anyway. “It’s my first real house and she’s a beauty, isn’t she? Got me my dog. Don’t be sorry mom.” She couldn’t help that her health was getting worse, that her heart was getting weaker. They’d had their first warning and Dean wouldn’t be this far away again. “Really. Don’t be mom. I would have moved back anyway and it’s not your fault.”

Her smile told him enough, that she knew that it wasn’t the case at all, but she didn’t say anything about it. “Maybe. Where is she?”

“I think with Sam. Last time I saw her, she was violently trying to trip him. I think he was hauling the box of dog food.” She laughed at that, warm and rich. “How’s your back today?”

“Better,” she promised. “I’ve been giving the boxes to your dad today.”

“Good, that’s good to hear.” He gently squeezed her hand. “I’m going to see how they’re doing out front. Thank you for helping.”

“Always Dean, always.”

 

He lingered by the letterbox a little too long. Everyone was already in the car, getting ready to drive his stuff back home and get unpacking. They’d probably help. Dean guessed that Jess and Mary would help him unpack while Sam and their father sat their ass down and drank a beer.

It wasn’t like they hadn’t deserved it, all of them. Jessica wasn’t even obliged to come over – she had deadlines for work to get to – but wanted to anyway. Her excuse was that the house would look like a hot mess if they didn’t have more than one person with decorating skills present, but Dean guessed that it was more to prove that she was a Winchester too. Maybe she’d _finally_ started liking her brother-in-law.

He liked that. It wasn’t like they hadn’t been friends before. Sure, she liked him enough, but had never been warm to him, had never been open and welcoming. After their wedding – which had been beautiful and Dean had to admit that he’d shed more than one tear – she’d started showing more affection and truth be told, Dean was glad. Glad that she was becoming part of their tight knit family more and more. She’d made Sam smile again, helped him escape the gutter his mind had become.

John yelled something from the car, helped pull Dean out of his thoughts. He had a job to do.

 _“_ Goodbye house,” he mumbled, sliding the letter in the postbox. “Come on Chev. Let’s go.”

 

_Whoever is living in this house now_

_a warm welcome to your new house! I have lived in this house and adored it. While it may get some weird looks - you’ll realize that soon enough, trust me - it’s an amazing place. Trust me man, when I say that I hope you’ll love it as much as I did. Wouldn’t be on the market if I had a choice._

_Anyway, you may know how the post office kinda sucks. I filled the change of address a few days ago but god knows that there’ll be some mail coming in. Are you okay with forwarding that to me? I’ll leave my address down below._

_3208 Riverview Road_

_Lawrence, Kansas_

_Take care of her, okay? She’s a beauty. Cleaning the windows takes a century but it’s worth it, it really is._

_Good luck,_

_Dean Winchester - the previous tenant_

_P.S: I’m sorry about the paw prints. They were there when I moved in. I know how to get them out, trust me I’ve tried. Just cleaning it won’t work. On the attic, there’s this box. Previous guy left it here. Feel free to do with it whatever you want, it seemed personal so I stayed out of it you know?_

_P.P.S. One of the windows in the back always gets stuck. I never got the chance to fix it, but if you really want it open, just keep prying it, it’ll pop open in an instant. Some oiling should do though._

 

* * *

 

 

_21 st of October, 2015_

 

Dean already missed the lake house, as bad as it may sound, he honestly did. The new house was finally becoming less of a mess, the final boxes getting unpacked and everything was finally functional. He still had troubles finding everything and more than once, he'd have to call his mom or Sam to ask where the hell they'd put things, but he was thankful that they'd come over to help.

It was a shame that he'd only been at the lake for a calm and blissful year and he would have stayed longer, but he was thankful for it. His mother was more important than the lake. He wanted to be able to get there first thing if his help was needed. Mary had been in the hospital three times because of her heart the past few months and if he was honest, it scared him quite badly.

Dean knew that he wasn't the only one that was worried. Sam worried, Jess did, most of all, their father did. The only one who didn't appear to be as worried about it was his mother herself, even if he knew that she was worried and scared as well. The past three months things had been good however, she'd been fine resting. Knowing that he was close just in case settled his sorrows a little bit. Even if he wouldn't be able to do much, he could make meals and bring them food if they needed it, take care of the house, keep it clean.

It was the least he could do.

 

Chevy was laying on the couch next to him, furry head on his leg and just staring with hose big eyes.  _Pleading._  He was too weak when it came to the stupid idiot of a dog. She always got what she wanted, no matter what it was. Dean wondered if that was saying something about her and how adorable  _she_  could be, or if it was saying something about how weak he was.

“I’ll get you your food don’t look at me like that. Get of my lap or you’re not getting anything.” Chevy stared at him, utterly impressed before scooting over and letting him get up. “You’re a spoiled dog, you know that?”

Chevy just barked excitedly before trailing him to the kitchen. If anything, Dean wanted to crawl into bed and let his aching muscles and back relax for a bit. The day had been a long one. Bobby’s garage was busy this time a year, with people running into troubles now it got colder. He didn’t quite mind it, but he was getting older too. As pathetic as it might be, he was starting to feel the effects of the days laying under cars and bend over the hood trying to figure out problems. His back was the worst. It ached the most, though his muscles weren’t that easy on him either.

“Here you go,” he sighed, scratching her behind his ears. “Eat up. How ‘bout we go down to the house soon huh? Get a walk in? See if anyone delivered any mail anyway?” She barked at that, happily. “You miss that beach, don’t you girl?”

Truth was, he sort of missed it too. He’d gotten so used to waking up early because the sun was shining in through his windows and taking her out for a walk on the beach. He'd take his hands off the  It was how he’d found her in the first place, when she’d been traveling up and down a little lost. That was a year ago now and truth be told, he couldn’t imagine living without her now.

She may be spoiled and a brat, she might take up to much space in his bed and woke him up way too early, but he loved her. Not in the way that his brother did – god Sam was all over her whenever he came by and he was sure that the feeling was mutual – but still. She was his dog and if he ever found the jerk who almost hit her on the road the previous year he might actually flip. He'd been so close to losing her back then.

“I thought so.” He couldn’t help but grin. “How about we do this, huh bud? I have Sunday off, we visit mom and dad and we stop there and toss around a stick or something? Deal?” She barked in agreement. “Okay, that’s settled. Pleasure doing business with you. I don’t know about you, but I could use a nap. You too?”

He should probably make himself dinner first, but he had his priorities and after a long day of working on cars, sleep was the first thing on his mind.

 

 

* * *

 

**_Castiel._ **

_21st of November, 2013_

 

Castiel wasn’t quite used to the house yet. It almost seemed daunting to live in a house made up almost entirely out of glass, where everything could break and nothing seemed to be one hundred percent private. Just the thought of cleaning windows - as Dean had so kindly pointed out - was daunting.  It had been a foolish decision on his part, getting the house. It was a fixer upper, would require more work than he was cut out to do. Hospital shifts were busy and he didn’t have a lot of free time as it was, it would take over a year to fix all the things that he wanted to fix.

There were people that he could call to help, knew that there were a few skilled people willing to help him out, it just didn’t quite feel right. If he bought a fixer upper, he would actually fix it himself. If he wouldn’t, his brother would most likely die laughing. Gabriel was a bit of a trickster and the house in itself had been a bit of a joke. Maybe it had been part of the rebellious side of Cas that had chosen that yes this was the house he was going to get whether his brother believed in him or not. Whatever part of him had decided to love it didn't quite matter. He did love it.

He’d fallen in love with the house when his brother showed him. Gabriel had taken him there as a practical joke, a way of showing him that if he wouldn’t start making up his mind about what he’d wanted, he’d get a house like that where there was a lot of work left to be done. To use his words 'a house with three thousand problems that'll be on the market until someone takes pity and buys it just because or the owners take it off the market themselves. No one would want a house like this Cas, but you're going to end up with something like this if you keep being this picky about this'. Cas actually buying the place hadn’t been what he had expected, obviously.

Maybe he should ask Gabriel to go ahead and help him, just as punishment. He was already carrying boxes though and helping him move. They’d made a lot of progress over the past few hours of driving back and forth. Anna had helped him pack everything up at his old apartment but couldn't come help him unpack, which was fine. She'd already helped out more than he'd specifically wanted her to.

Said brother was waiting by the front door, his stack of boxes on the flouring next to the door. Gabriel was flat out staring at him, waiting for him to get the hint. Oh right. They’d locked the door on the way out. He’d almost forgotten it, but then again the house was distracting.

It was more beautiful than anything that he’d ever seen, held a charm and character. The house may be fixer upper, but it still possessed, something that he really liked. Castiel usually wasn’t drawn to houses that much. It had been what had annoyed Gabriel most. They’d visited so many houses, but he hadn’t liked any of them. There was always something missing. This one had seemed perfect. It still felt that way.

“Hey Cas, you want to move in today or next month?” Gabriel was leaning against the door frame, eyebrows raised. “Because if you're waiting a month I really want to order that pizza now." He frowned at the letter that Cas was holding. "Who’s already sending you mail? Didn’t you just change your address earlier this morning?”

“Very funny Gabriel.” His brother was a bit of a pain in the ass some days. Some days being all days. He’d lived in one apartment with his brother for long enough, he knew just how bad he could get. “It’s the previous tenant. Asking to forward his mail to him.” He let his eyes scan the pages again. “He apologizes for the paw prints – have you seen any? - mentions that there is something on the attic from a tenant before him. Just a courtesy letter I guess. He moved out because he had no choice, something like that. Haven't had the chance to read through completely."

“Thought you were the first in years?” Gabriel shook his head. “But no. Maybe they’re hidden under an ugly rug or something – god knows it’s what you’d do.”

“I am.” The door popped open with a slight pop. It was still airing out from the years that it’d been empty. The old lady smell that lingered was almost gone now. “There’s no date on the note - I think it’s been in there for a long time. They’re working on the neighborhood where the address is, so I think he lived there before they demolished it.” He left the note in the hallway, on one of the boxes. These were the last three and then all his stuff would finally be here. It would finally have the chance to become his home.

“I’ll leave the unpacking to you, yell if you need anything. I’ll be just a few miles away.”

“Thank you for your help Gabe, it’s really appreciated.”

“Whatever Cas.” His brother was smiling though, scanning the room. “You’ve got a pretty nice kitchen. Maybe we should have Christmas here instead of at mom’s and dad’s.” It was an idea Cas could work with. He wasn't the best cook, but he had the room.

“We’ll see when the time comes. If I’ve settled in by then.” God knew that it would take him ages to unpack all of his stuff. Part of him had hoped that Gabriel would have stayed a little bit longer, but he didn’t quite mind being alone either. It would give him a chance to check out that box that was supposed to be in the attic. "

 

 

The stairs that lead to the attic creaked on his way up, bad enough to scare Cas just a little bit. He mentally added it to his list of things that he wanted to fix, So far it contained the window - as the previous tenant had mentioned -, the shower, floor in the bathroom and now the stairs to the attic. He was sure that as he put his furniture back together he’d find more little things that needed fixing and he’d actually have to start keeping a written list, but for now this would suffice.

The dust was caked on the floor and it was almost a reassurance that the letter had indeed been there for a while. First thing he did was open up the window and let some fresh air in. He looked all around, but he couldn’t find the alleged box on the attic. There was an old crib and some sheets, a few quilts, but no box. Maybe whoever had put the crib there had taken it away by now.

Castiel just shrugged it off and left the attic, adding a ‘need to clean things up in there’ to his mental list of thousands and thousands of things he had left to do. He should probably get started. Knowing himself, it would take ages to unpack and with work, things would only take longer.

There were no groceries in the house either and he was quite sure that his vacuum cleaner was about to hand in the towel as well, but he'd just have to do that later. He'd just spend an entire day driving back and forth, hauling boxes. Least he could do was sit down for a minute and get his first cup of coffee of the day. God, he needed that coffee if he was going to start the bookshelves. Castiel and IKEA may have a love-hate relationship but one thing was certain; IKEA always won.

 

  

Waking up with the water as a soundtrack was a new sensation. He’d never been one to go to on beach trips with his family, never had been to actively want to go to the water and the beach. Truth be told, it almost frightened him a little bit. Big bodies of water with a big risk of drowning, being pulled away by the current and the risk of having Gabriel do whatever he wanted sort of scared him. Okay, no they scared him quite a lot.

He ought to get up, get dressed and start working outside. He'd finished most of the inside furniture the previous day and night, had eventually won the fight with the book shelves and put the boxes of books that he could find on them. The kitchen was sort of finished up and the living room as well. The bath and toilet worked, which was enough for now. His bedroom was something he could finish up later, the couch was comfortable enough for now.

It was his last day without work and, with that, the last chance for him to fix up some of the major things that needed addressing. The plans for the day were to get up, drink coffee and then get cracking. The main concern was the worn down pier. It was sturdy enough but the wood had lost most of it color. Some research online had shown that it would be enough to sand it down a bit and use a finish on it. It ought to be easy enough so he should be able to do it. It wasn’t like he was that much of a klutz.

That was if he ever actually managed to get out. He was still sitting on his bed, cup of coffee clasped in his hands and looking at the lake. It was different, waking up here. Castiel still wasn’t entirely sure if he liked it all that much. He’d never been one for change. Things were good as long as things stayed constant.

Working at the hospital didn’t bring him that. Every day, new things happened, people crashed and patients died, others walked out of the hospital stable and sometimes even happily. Others came back after they had been ‘cured’. The cancer ward was a battle ground and some lost their footing. He was almost used to it by now, as awful as that may sound. He could never get completely used to losing patients, but it was like scar tissue starting to cover his heart. It just didn’t bother him as much anymore. It still kept him awake some nights, but not as much as it used to do.

Castiel had almost no real stability in his job, so he had created that in his life. Things never happened in his person life and that was good. At least that thing stayed constant. Moving had changed that up quite majorly, he’d just have to deal. 

 

The pier was actually coming along nicely. He’d finished the walk that wrapped around the house and was letting it dry, about to finish up the walk up to the shore. He was planning on going to the store to get some groceries while it dried. It ought to be dry by the time that he came back. Truth be told, Castiel was proud of himself for doing it. He'd done so without cutting himself, getting the product all over himself or majorly messing up.

It was when he cleaned off his hands on a rag and was about to get to his car that he saw the dog walk closer. He watched as she walked closer, hesitant at first. In her eyes, he could almost see fear. Only when he didn't scare her off, she started running towards the pier. He was too dumbstruck to stop her before she hit the wet flooring and ran further, laying down at his front door.

Castiel sighed. He'd probably have to do that all over again and attempt to get the paw prints out of there. Something he honestly doubted that he'd be able to do. Oh good lord.

"You happy now?" he sighed, throwing the rag he'd used to clean the last of the paint off his hands. "Now I can start all over again, isn't that marvelous? You and your paw...pawprints." The letter. "Are you my culprit?" It was with a grown that he rummaged through his pockets, trying to find the letter. He stared at the paw prints leading to the front of the house for a very long time before opening the letter.

_P.S: I’m sorry about the paw prints. They were there when I moved in._

He was confused. Very much confused.

 

* * *

 

__**Dean.**  
_ _

_26 th of November, 2015_

Chevy was running along the beach, feet pounding in the sand. He loved seeing her run like this, free and without a care in the world. She always looked so relaxed when she got to run around. The beach, it was where he’d found her one of his first days at the house. It had been a week filled with unpacking and cleaning and he’d wanted to relax. To do anything but look around for a job in town and unpack boxes really. Only when he started unpacking his stuff had he realized just how much junk he really had in the house.

Dean remembered walking and her just sitting there. He'd thought she was from someone who was playing at the beach at first so he'd ignored her. After he'd come back and she hadn't even moved, he'd figured out that she had to be a stray or in some way connected to the house.  The sad and betrayed look in her eyes had told him as much. She didn't know if she could come in or not, if he was a safe person to be around. Dean had gone all the way with her, taking her to the vet and seeing if she was chipped. She had been, but the vet hadn’t needed to look at her to even know that.

Chevy’s story was sort of sad. The vet - Anna, if he remembered correctly - had told him with a frown on her face. In a way, he'd been thankful that he knew now. The dog was a girl and named Chevy. The previous owner had seen somebody drive by in an old Chevy when he'd brought her in and decided that it was her name. The owner had moved out of the house after a year - Dean guessed that it was the previous tenant - and taken her with at first. After the guy passed away, she'd gone back to the house, as if she expected him to appear there.

“Chevy is connected to the house now,” the girl shrugged, before checking her over. “She's doing okay, considering. A little underweight but she should be fine soon enough. Will you take care of her?”

“Of course.”

It was how she’d gotten attached to him. God, he so easily remembered the first days when she’d gone in but just laid there sadly in a corner. Each time his brother walked in, her head would snap up and she’d be excited, but the person she was really looking for was never there. It took a lot of food and coaxing, just lying there with her for her to trust him enough and to warm up with her.

He so rarely saw that dog now. Some days, he thought he saw a glimpse of her shine through, like the day that they’d left the house, but all was good. Good enough at least. It was a reassurance, that things would be okay and start to look up for her. Dean had talked to Anna afterwards, had heard more stories and details - about how the other tenant had been her brother and how he'd brought her in with paint stuck to her paws asking her to check her over, how she was a stray dog but in quite remarkable health. Since then, Anna and he had become friends, to an extent.

“What are you seeing girl?” he asked her, a grin on his lips. Dean was in good spirits today. It was close to the holidays and he’d get to see everyone again. Sam would be there with his ridiculously adorable girlfriend and they’d be able to catch up, see what everyone was up to. “Are you seeing the lake house? Want to go there?” Chevy barked excitedly, running towards it the second he mentioned it. “One second girl!”

It was a shame that they couldn’t do it at the lake house this year. He distinctly remembered how the snowfall had been so heavy the previous year that they’d all stayed over. Seeing his mother sit in the rocking chair by the window and smiling at the view was something that he had stored in his memories, as cheesy as it might be. The pictures of last year were ones that he cherished, in a way. Sam looked truly  _happy_. It had been so long since he'd seen his brother happy and smiling and relaxed.

His brother had been through hell and back, Dean knew that. He'd been there when his brother went off to college and cracked under the pressure, when he became depressed. He'd seen his brother reduce to  _nothing_  but bones and skin. It was almost ten years ago now, but sometimes Dean was still afraid that he'd return to that state. Dean so clearly remembered walking in that dorm room and seeing his brother in a lose shirt behind his books, hair a mess. He probably hadn't showered in over a week, had red eyes and truth be told, had looked like a ghost.

Sometimes, he needed memories like last Christmas, when Jess had been so loving and warm, to chase those bad memories away. Jessica was pregnant now, still in the early stages but there would be a baby Sammy or baby Jess walking around somewhere the next year. He'd become a godfather. Who'd ever thought that. Sam was so careful with her now and it was good to see, was a good reassurance. Things were looking up and it was that that Dean had to keep in mind.

Seeing the house again brought those memories back. It held so much affection for him that it being empty now almost hurt him. While he could understand that there were few people that wanted to live in a house that seemed to be build out of nothing but wood and glass, he'd hoped that by now at least someone would have taken it. It was still his property however, still on the market and it was a shame.

 

As he noticed, he noticed the red flag was raised. Dean frowned as he walked closer. It shouldn't be up, there shouldn't be any mail in there. He'd left quite a while ago so there should be no more mail coming in. He'd checked the mailbox after a month and it had been empty. It could still be, it would be typical US post service. There was always something going wrong with it. Seeing his new address on the envelope made him frown however.

 

_Dean_

_I will make sure to forward any mail to you should I get any – I work long nights however so it might take me a while to actually get them to you. I’m not sure if you still need me to – people told me that the house has been empty for a few years now. Regardless, should I get any I’ll still forward it to you._

_How did you know about the paw prints? This dog just ran up today – as you said they won’t come off. At least you were right about that._

_The new tenant, Castiel Novak._

Dean scoffed. _How did he know about the paw prints?_ They were there when he moved in, how else would he know about them? The guy was either pranking him or truly delusional. He sighed as he rummaged around in his pockets, trying to find one of the stray pens that always hung around in them.

"Do you see that, Chev?" he sighed, scratching the dog behind the ears as she sat down next to him. "People think we're crazy enough for liking this place that they started pranking us." He may not have time for tricksters but he could at least pretend to answer.

 

* * *

 

 

_**Castiel.** _

 

_21st of January, 2014_

 

The Holidays had been filled with snow. Castiel had forgotten how much he loved the sight until he woke up that morning and his breath was almost taken away by the view. Most of the lake had frozen over and it looked perfect for ice skating, but he wasn’t stupid. While it may look thick enough he was about three hundred percent sure that it in fact wasn’t thick enough to carry anyone. Last thing he wanted was to spend the few days that he didn't have to be at the hospital for work in the ER section of said hospital. Especially not with severe hypothermia or in the morgue of the hospital because he couldn't get out of the water and had drowned. Cas knew that it was just doom thinking, but he honestly didn't want to risk it.

Castiel needed to clear his head and he wasn't going to do it on the ice. He could do that right from his bed, while looking at the lake. The past weeks had been...weird for a lack of a better word for it. Work had been busy and while seeing his family had been nice, it had made him recognize how alone he was at the moment. Things would pass by soon enough, he knew that. Winter was usually a bit iffy for him, nothing serious but it happened and it was fine really. Getting the weekend over with would help a lot.

Or realizing that he wasn't insane would help, that too. It was either that or he was actually mailing a person living in 2015 - or well he guessed 2016 now - and Castiel honestly didn't know which one of the two was worse. He'd just gone with it, even if it was his brother pranking him. Dean was nice enough about it and actually proved to be quite the person to talk to. After a long night of helping his patients, it was sometimes reassuring to see the all too familiar scribbles across the page.

Dean listened, whether he wanted to or not. Writing was quite therapeutic sometimes, when he'd lost someone or there was something amiss. It was a way of writing out his feelings. Sometimes, the letters got ripped up and burned and not send but it helped him cope. Just like tearing up the boxes he'd used to store all his stuff in helped and taking walks with Chevy.

Chevy was a whole other story. Castiel had thought that she would go away after she probably ruined the pier forever, but she didn't. After he'd called on his sister to get her checked out and see if she was maybe chipped, if he could return her to someone. Anna had told him that she wasn't however, but doing good. It was probably best to hang up some posters and see if anyone in town recognized her.

It hadn't happened so far. Castiel was pretty positive that by now, no one would show up. It was a shame really, because she was a sweetheart. >Chevy - as he'd started calling her - was kind and respectful, didn't bark a lot or require a lot of attention. She slept most of the day and then woke up an hour or three before Cas came back from the hospital. Each time, she ran up to him and followed him until he sat down so she could jump on his lap.

In a way, she was like the wife he'd never had. Excited to know he's home, somebody to take long walks with without having his company complain that their feet were hurting or that they'd walked too far. It was nice, it really was.

 

Castiel was tired. If he wasn't careful, he'd fall asleep in the locker room before even driving home. The day had been long, perhaps a bit too long for him. He hadn't even started early, had been able to sleep in for a little bit. The code blue had shaken them all a little bit. The patient had pulled through, thank god and was moved to the Intensive Care Unit but it had been a close call.

He hated these days. When things were busy, they almost lost a patient on the ward and he felt exhausted. His body was running on auto pilot while he worked and it was dangerous. Dangerous because he had to keep his head in the game to get everything right and not mix up patients. Castiel had survived the day and his patients had as well. Maybe the doctor wouldn't quite be able to figure out what he'd written down but he honestly didn't care as much. All he wanted was a few hours of blissful sleep.

"Let me drive you back." The hand coming down on his shoulder startled him. "You'll get yourself in an accident if you drive tonight." Balthazar was still dressed in his scrubs, a few specs of blood having made its way to the shirt underneath. "Give me a minute and we'll be good to go."

"It's okay," he mumbled, "I was going to grab a cup of coffee to wake me up." His original plan had been to take a quick nap, have some coffee and then hit the road before it was light again outside. "You don't have to."

"I'm serious Cas. I won't let you drive like this. All I'm asking is five minutes," he said. "I need to get changed and my boots on and then we can go. It's not like you live that far from me anyway. I'll come pick you up tomorrow or arrange a cab for you. Sit your ass back down for just five minutes." _Fine._

"Thank you," he sighed, sitting back down again. "It's been a long day. I think I can use a good night of sleep.”

“Tell me about it. I’ve seen enough people on my table today. People chose the holidays to get major problems, I’m telling you. My advice ain’t worth a cent, but don’t go ice skating when the ice is thin, or you’ll end up on my operation table.”

“Did they pull through?”

“Yeah, the woman’s fine. She’ll walk on crutches for a good long while and set of metal detectors for a bit, but she’ll be okay. Just hope she’s not stupid enough to go on the ice again when she’s not sure. Would save me a great deal of work.” He sighed. “They won’t ever listen, will they?”

“Of course they won’t. They can't make it easy for us, can they? Not that it really matters that much on an oncology floor. They can't really control when they get a relapse or become better." Sometimes, he wished that  _he_  could. Even if it put him out of a job, sometimes he wished that he could just end it for some people. They suffered so much and for what cost? Another month? Another three? "It'll calm down soon enough. People are getting sick because of the cold."

"Yeah, I know, I know. Doesn’t change the fact that it sucks, majorly.” Balthazar pulled on his coat and mittens. “Are you good to go?”

“I am.” He slung his messenger bag over his shoulder. “All good.” He’d brought some stuff with him so he could write during his break, but he’d ended up not being able to take that break. It was something that he’d just have to do it tomorrow. Dean could wait for just a few more hours. “You’ll come pick me up tomorrow?”

“Yep. Or I’ll pay you a cab or lunch to make up for the drive there. Depends on what you’d prefer.”

“Lunch,” he sighed. “If you don’t mind? I’m sick of hospital lunches.” Castiel had spent too many hospital lunches alone in the cafeteria while writing his next letter for Dean or reading through Dean’s. Often he noticed the letters when he was running out the door and was already late.

“Maybe you wouldn’t sit alone if you actually took a break when the rest does instead of working so hard,” Balthazar said. “Or you could not always be reading or writing during the seldom breaks you take - rumors go around you know.”

“Very funny,” he sighed. “Do you actually have time to open your mail at home? Already thought so.”

“Just giving you pointers, Cas. Just giving you pointers. Who’re you always writing to anyway?”

“Pen pal,” he said, shrugging. It had been his default reply. He was dorky enough that people would actually believe that he’d have one. “Which is why I’m trying to stay on top of it, wouldn’t want to keep other people waiting.”

“Really? What do you write about then?” Balthazar led him to his car. “No, I’m serious. Don’t look at me like that. You sleep, eat, play with that dog of yours and work.” Which was true, in essence. It surprised Castiel as well, how much they still found to talk about. They'd figured out that Castiel himself had probably left the box up there, the one with the pictures in it. The crib that was up there in his timeline was left by the guy who had build the place, but could quite possibly be reused one day. 

"About Chevy, the patients or my day. A reply to whatever Dean wrote." He fastened the seat belt. "Sometimes things happen in the family or well, anywhere really and you just need to write it out. Things like that. You know, what you talk about with friends." It was oddly helpful to write to Dean. "The only difference is that he can't immediately answer." In fact, the question to answer ratio was about two years. 

"You're a weird guy Cas."

"Oh don't I know it. Haven't you ever had an internet friend or someone you met while on holiday? It's pretty much the same thing." At least, he guessed. Castiel hadn't been the one to go out a lot when he was a kid and had never had one of those friends. Granted, his parents had been busy, leaving Gabriel, Anna and him to fen for their own when they were younger. "It's not as weird when you're doing it."

"As long as it makes you happy." Balthazar shook his head. "You're at the lake house, right?"

"Another case of people gossiping, is it?" Cas asked him. "But yeah, I live in the all too famous lake house."

"It's the house that has been empty the longest, what do you expect? It's a weird house. Not everyone lives in a house that is 1) completely made up out of glass and 2) literally floating over a lake." He shook his head. "I don't know how you do it man."

"It's not that hard." He shrugged and bit back a yawn. "You're overthinking it. I wake up looking at the lake and I fall asleep with the sound of my dog snoring – she’s awful with snoring – and water washing away in the background. It’s amazing. We’re almost there, but when we get there, you just need to have a good look. I can guarantee you. It’s gorgeous.”

“Sure thing.”

 

Castiel closed the door behind him,  _glad_  to finally be home. Chevy lifted her head up from where she was lying on the couch, making sure that it was him before running over. Talking about a warm welcome. It was this that he'd grown to love most about her, being welcomed. The house didn't feel as empty with her here, with her waiting for him to come home

"Hey girl, I'm finally home. Yeah, I missed you too. How about I refill your bowl and get myself a cup of coffee, huh? Sounds like a good idea? Thought so." He was too wake to go to bed by now and it wasn't like it was that late. At least he’d be able to read through Dean’s letter now.

 

 

_Hiya Cas, sorry it took me a while to get back to you. Life has been a little bit crazy the past few days._

_I’m sorry about the patient. Wish I could do anything to help cheer you up man. Are you okay? There’s not much that I can do from 2015, I know, but is there anything?_

_You did your best._

_As in how my day’s been, good actually. I told you about my little brother becoming a father? Well, I just found out that I’m getting a little niece! Had the ultrasound with them and everything. I’ll be real honest, a twenty-week ultrasound looks really weird. I mean, you can see that it’s a baby, but that’s it?_

_They look so generic. Sammy is over the moon though. Smiling and practically glowing. It’s good to see him like this, so happy and cheerful. You’d almost hug him or ask him where he got his uppers. I swear._

_Sam’s going to be a good father though. He’s got a heart of gold and I’ve seen him with kids before. He’s good. Real good. I mean, not every kid gets a chance to say that their father will scare away every bully by just arriving. I mean, they’re just going to be amazing._

_And truth is Jess is very sweet as well, so the kid is going to end up the cutest and most adorable kid in the neighborhood. I’m proud that I’ll be her uncle, even if that does make me sound and feel old. I mean, my baby brother is having a baby. It just sounds wrong you know._

_Anyway, I hope that your day has been better than the previous one_

_Dean._

_P.S: Do you think we could meet, one day? In my timeline? I mean, I’d be willing to do it in yours but let’s face it Cas, out letters can time travel but we can’t._

 

Castiel stared for a long time, brow furrowed in confusion. Dean wanted to _meet_? In real life? He couldn’t say that he hadn’t thought about it himself, but that had only been a thought. After all, for him the earliest date they could meet up at was two years away.

He’d have time to freak out over it. Now Dean had suggested it and it felt like it was coming real close. Perhaps a bit too close for him to be comfortable with it.

The pen hoovered over the page for a long time before he started writing.

 

 

_Dean,_

_It’s okay. We lose patients all the time, but yeah. I’m okay. Today was a busy day, but we helped someone pull through. Those days are always the better ones. Even if it’s busy and patients are going through rough days._

_As in cheering me up, don’t worry. Distraction is good and to be honest, Chevy cheers me up as much as is needed to keep me on my toes. Seriously. Don’t worry about me!_

_Oh, how nice!_ _ Congratulations, uncle. _ _Have they let you know if they’ve figured out a name yet? Let me know! I’m sure that both you and your brother will do great. Sam sounds great as a father! How much younger is he, if you call him your baby brother? And excuse me, but I’m older than you. I don’t know if I should be offended or laugh at you for getting your mid-life crisis at age 27. You're only quarter of the way there._

 _I don’t think I’ve ever asked – how’s your situation? Don’t you have someone to come home to?_ _I’m sorry if that’s overstepping, but I feel like we’ve talked about a lot and for some reason, something like that hasn’t come up. So, what about it Dean? Do you have a wife or are you dating someone? No little girls or boys of yourself? You sound like you’d be a great father._

_I hope you’ll have a great day._

_Cas._

 

* * *

 

**_Dean._ **

_12 th of February, 2016_

 

Dean was nervous. He couldn’t even pretend that it was anything else that had him tapping his feet and drumming on the table top. They’d agreed to meet today, in a local coffee shop for just a cup of coffee, to start it easy. A coffee shop was neutral ground. At least, if things went south or if things ended up being really awkward when Dean couldn't spend at least an hour thinking about his words, they could just leave.

Thing was, Cas was late and it was making him anxious. He seemed to be a good guy, honest. Surely he'd have let him know if he didn't want to come, if he really thought that it was that bad an idea? Cas seemed like a person that wouldn't let anyone down, at least not if he could help it. Had something come up?

He waited there for two hours, drank three cups of coffee and had one slice of pie before leaving, with a heavy heart and disappointed more than anything.

 

 

_Cas._

_You never showed up. I don't know what happened, but I sat there in that coffee shop for hours. Dude, I got pitying looks from people that probably thought that I was waiting on a date._

_I went home after two hours because I honestly don't think that my stomach could have handled more coffee. I'm sorry if you showed up afterwards._

 

 

* * *

 

 

**_Castiel._ **

 

_16th of February, 2014_

 

 

_Dean, I'm so sorry._

Castiel's pen hoovered over the paper, unsure of what else he  _could_ say. He'd stood him up and he didn't even know why, didn't know if it was because an emergency had come up in the hospital or maybe because something happened. 

_I don't know why I didn't show up. It's a low blow. Again, I'm sorry. Maybe something came up at the hospital. Some nights I can be called back. If they paged me, there is a likelihood that I wouldn't have thought to let you know something. After all, it's sort of futile, right? I don't think that I have your number in my timeline so I couldn't call._

_I wish I could tell you why. Honestly, I do._

_I'll give you my number. You can call me and then, perhaps, you'll be able to ask me why._

_202-555-0193_

_I honestly hope I have a good reason._

 

_Cas._

 

* * *

 

 

_2nd of March, 2016_

 

Dean's throat felt like it was closing up as he took out the paper. It had been a few days since he'd called the number now and found out more. Since he spoke with Gabriel and heard the news. To be honest, he should have known and remembered. Castiel's sister was Chevy's vet and she had told him when he brought her in. It was something that he should have remembered.

He didn't sleep, the day after he found out.

_Cas. I found out why you left me sitting there and you will not like it._

_I spoke to Gabriel three days ago. Called your number and it took me to your voicemail - which is cheesy as hell man. So I thought, why not call again later, see if he's maybe at the hospital or just working, so I called back around night time. This time, your brother picked up. Asked him if you were around. He just told me that I was two years late._

_It was when it clicked Cas._

_You weren't there because you couldn't be. Anna told me the whole story later. When you moved out of the house, you went to the city. Chevy and you both missed it, a lot. Apparently, time accepted our friendship because you drove over to the house when I was living there. Anna couldn't quite explain it to me, she said that 'I don't know why, but my brother was dead set on telling the new tenant something'._

_There was a patch of ice on the road. Your car hit it and you started spinning. At the hospital you work at, you died, a few months later. They put you in a coma. All because you needed to tell me something._

_Bloody hell man._

 

_Do me a favor. Don't. Don't come for me. Everything can wait, everything can wait just a little bit longer. Please._

_Don't go on that road, stay at home with Chev. Curl up with her on the couch and sleep. Wait. Wait until another date. Please. Wait._


	2. Epilogue

_16th of May, 2016_

 

Dean was walking up and down the all too familiar beach, watching Chevy as she walked up and down, up and down. It had been a long couple of months for him, but he was glad that it was done now. After going through all of his stuff, stashing the letters from Castiel - which had stopped coming when Dean had send the letter explaining - in a trunk and away.

It was stupid, but he missed talking to him. Writing to Castiel had become part of his schedule, reading through the letters made him feel almost a little less alone. Losing that had changed things up quite a bit. He still went out with Chevy, he still did all the things that he used to do. Not a lot had changed, just the fact that he now had no one to vent to or write to.

He sort of missed it. He'd tried to find if he could perhaps find Cas's grave. Seeing it would give him some peace. He'd gotten flowers and everything, but he could find it. The flowers were still sitting in the passenger seat. He'd wanted to let them fall in the lake, maybe as a remembrance or at least a thought. Dean still hadn't done it, couldn't get it over his heart.

Maybe he should. _He should do it right now._

"Come Chev!" he called, "let's go to the house one last time." They'd visited often when they'd written to each other, because that letterbox seemed to be the only thing getting the letters to each other.

 

 

 

He left one final letter in the letterbox and sat down at the back of the pier, looking over the water. It felt oddly final now, saying goodbye to it.

A new guy had bought the house - Dean didn't know who, it had all gone through the real estate agent - and he'd be moving in in two days. It technically was his already, but Dean was sure that the new guy wouldn't mind him doing this. The flowers were lying next to him, he couldn't quite get it over his heart to let them go.

"Cas man," he muttered, picking one of them up in his hands. "I hope you listened you idiot and that's why I didn't find your grave." The first one fell in the water and it felt oddly comforting to see it sink. "Here's to you anyway."

The other flowers followed soon after. "Look at this, you turned me into a sap." He sighed. "Come on Chev. Let's go home."

 

* * *

 

 

He was about to sit down in the car and drive off when he heard the rumble of another engine and Chevy's ears perked up. Dean frowned at her, tried to stop her as the car stopped and she jumped out, running towards whoever was getting out of the car. He guessed that it was the new owner, which made no sense, considering that Chevy shouldn't know him.

His stomach made a sick leap as he thought that perhaps this could be the jerk that let her run in the first place.  If this was her original owner, he had some words to share with him.  _A lot_ of words on how he was a dick for letting such a beautiful dog run free. For forgetting about her as if she was nothing.

"Hey Chev. Hey girl." She barked in answer, nearly sending the guy topping to the ground. "It's been years, hasn't it? You've gotten so beautiful. Yeah, I missed you too." Dean finally caught a top of dark brown hair, blue eyes. "Hello, Dean."

 _Fuck_. This was him. This was Cas.

Dean couldn't help it as he stepped closer and pulled him into a hug. "I'm so glad you're alive man."

"Me too. Me too." He could feel Cas smile against his shoulder. "It's good to finally meet you."


End file.
